


Slings and Arrows

by Spinofflady



Series: Race to the Edge [3]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Race To The Edge, Traps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinofflady/pseuds/Spinofflady
Summary: While inspecting the ruins of a deceased village, Astrid, Dagur, and Tove discover a lone survivor, one they know well. Fighting the inevitable, they work against the clock to save Hiccup’s life.





	1. Chapter 1

Hiccup urged Stormfly on as they raced toward the island shown in Astrid’s message. The morning air was cold, and their speed caused his eyes to water. He noticed a few sea stacks below them, a sure sign of nearby land. It was hard to make out objects in the distance; the fog was thick today.

A small island came into view, and the two picked up speed. Knowing that there could be dangers, he circled around the island to make sure there were no ships present. Flying low, he could just make out a single pair of footprints leading from the water’s edge to the wooded inland.

The two landed and Hiccup unsheathed his inferno, unsure of what lay ahead. A strange, almost sweet, scent greeted them as they stepped into the trees. He clicked the trigger, and it snapped across the flint, creating just enough spark to light the blade. He used the sword as a torch to guide his was in the dark forest. Other than the footprints, there was no other sign of life on this island.

“Astrid,” he called out warily. “Astrid? Where are you?”

There was no reply. The back of his spine prickled uncomfortably. Something wasn’t right. He didn’t know why, but every fiber in his body was screaming at him to get on Stormfly and fly away as fast as he could. It was only the thought of finding Astrid that made him go on.

“Astrid! Are you there?” His voice shook slightly. He glanced back at Stormfly, who seemed perfectly calm.

The sound of feminine coughing came from somewhere in the distance. Stormfly obviously heard it too, and she squawked softly.

“Astrid?”

“Hiccup?” It was so faint and weak he almost missed it.

“Astrid! Where are you? I’m coming!” The words he spoke made his spine tingle. This wasn’t right, in fact it was very, very wrong, but Astrid might be out here somewhere, and that was why he couldn’t leave.

The coughing came again, but there was no answer.

“Astrid?” He stepped into a grove of trees, mud squelching under his feet. He caught sight something in the trees, and glanced behind him at Stormfly. She appeared to have vanished.  
Now he knew something was wrong. Stormfly would never disappear without a sound. He was about to go look for her but the coughing came again, this time much, much closer.

“Hiccup?”

Hiccup glanced back to the tree line, and was just able to make out a form laying limply on the ground in the pale morning light.

“Astrid!” He rushed over and dropped to his knees beside her, gathering her into his lap, pausing to stick his still lit inferno into the ground for light. She groaned as he moved her. “It’s okay, I’m here now. Are you hurt?”

She nodded, her eyes remaining closed, as if opening them would make the pain worse. With a grimace she pointed to her knee, which was wrapped in a bloodstained blue cloth. He realized she had torn the bottom half of her shirt off the cover the wound, and her exposed belly was chilling her whole body. She had to get out of this cold.

“Okay, I’m going to get you home,” he told her gently. “But I need to find Stormfly first.”

“Good luck,” Astrid replied, no longer sounding weak and in pain. He voice didn’t sound right, either.

Hiccup stiffened and loosened his grip on her. The strange, uneasy feeling in his stomach returned. “What?”

“Good luck,” Astrid repeated, this time louder. Her eyes were still closed. She didn’t sound a thing like herself.

Hiccup drew back even more, slightly pushing her out of his lap. “You aren’t Astrid.”

The girl’s eyes snapped open and an evil, almost seductive, grin passed over her face. Her brown eyes glowed maliciously in the light of his inferno.

Hiccup pushed away from her and backed away, though still eye level with her. “This is a trap.” The unwelcome words came out with the realization that he had been played all to easily.

The girl sat up and leaned toward him, walking two fingers up his chest and started to play with the hair behind his ear. Herconfidence stuck a weakness in him, and he was suddenly too terrified to move.

“Your right, Hiccup.” Her voice was smooth and silky, it seemed to hold him captive, or perhaps that was just fear. “It is a trap.” Her nails pricked his chin as she traced his jaw line. “And you walked right in.”

Hiccup glanced around, finding every way of escape cut off by a burly soldier. He didn’t recognize their uniforms. How had he fallen for this?! He knew something was wrong, right from the start. Why had he stayed?

As he searched for an alternate way out, he was suddenly pushed backward on the ground and found the strange girl on top of him. Her lips were suddenly crammed down on his, and the repulsion that flooded his stomach made him want to retch.

He pushed her off, but a guard pinned his shoulders to the ground, and she sat down heavily on his hips.

“Tie him up,” the guard instructed gruffly.

The girl scowled at him. “Oh, come on,” she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Let me have a little fun with him first.”

“You’re lucky I don’t hit girls,” Hiccup snarled at her, his eyes narrowing.

“Oh please.” She laughed; it was a high-pitched giggle. “I’m nowhere near innocent enough to be a girl.” She gave him a sleazy smirk, and attempted to push her hands up and under the hem of his tunic.  
  
He grabbed her wrists and glared at her. “Don’t.”

She jerked her hands free and started to caress his face again. “You’re cute,” she muttered. “I don’t get your type very often.”

“Alright, get off him!” the guard ordered, clearly annoyed.

She held out her open palm. “Money first.”

He grumbled something and fished a sack of coins out of his pocket and slapped it into her hand. “Now go back to whatever tavern you came from!”

The girl stayed right where she was as she counted out the money, and finally stood giving Hiccup a wink. “Nice doing business with you,” she smiled, strutting off with her hips swinging.

Hiccup swallowed the urge to call out several rather vulgar names after her. They were fitting, of course, but it wouldn’t help the situation one bit.

“Stand up,” the man above him ordered, releasing the death grip he had on Hiccup’s shoulders.

Hiccup obeyed, knowing it was his best and only option. He stared at the ground, realizing he was done for. There was no way out. He still felt sick from being kissed, and without thought he wiped his lips off. He knew he should probably give some thought to what the guards were discussing, but the growing emotion of failure and despair stole all of his attention.

“We’ll do you a favor and make this quick,” the man chuckled, giving Hiccup a quick but certainly not friendly pat on the shoulder.

Hiccup heard the twang of a crossbow, and pain almost instantly exploded through his left shoulder. He grunted as the arrow lodged itself in his flesh, and he staggered forward, slipping in the mud.

He had tried and failed. Deep down he’d know Astrid couldn’t possibly be alive, but it had eased the pain in his heart to think he might see her again. He had just wanted his friend back. She was dead, and soon he would be, too. He would just go missing, and no one would ever know what happened to him or Stormfly. It was a terrifying thought.

But the thought was cut short as something hard slammed into the back of his head, the dim light in front of him slowly began to tunnel. A whooshing noise filled his ears, and he stumbled a few swaying steps before his world went black.

. . .

It took two days for Astrid and Dagur to convince Tove that riding Deathcrasher was safe, and even when they finally did, she demanded to come with them. The adolescent dragon could at best only carry two of them, and they had to waste several more precious hours finding and training another Gronkle. Astrid insisted they should give it an appropriate name, and Dagur reluctantly settled for Honeysuckle.

Tove didn’t seem to understand that they were trying to get home, but communication was limited, and the two simply decided that it was good enough that she would let them go anywhere. It became very clear that she thought they were coming back when she put some cabbage leaves over some hot rocks to steam.

They tried to tell her that she could stay, but she shook her head and came along anyway. With great difficulty, Tove explained that there should be an inhabited island close by and that they should go there first.

They set off just after lunch, Dagur on Deathcrasher and Astrid and Tove on Honeysuckle. The female Gronkle had been very easy to train, and took great interest in Tove. It was obviously not mutual, but she wouldn’t step foot near a Dragon with the word “death” in its name, so she mounted behind Astrid.

The threesome flew rather slowly, and Astrid felt rather bad for poor Tove, who was clearly terrified to be on the back of a dragon in flight. She clung to Astrid and refused to look down.  
They finally came across the island, but it was far from inhabited. It had, at one time, hosted human life, but that could have been more than three or four decades ago. The buildings had crumbled and the well, or what was left of it, was dry.

A large number of overgrown grave markers could be spotted off in the woods. Astrid stooped to pick up a small, cloth doll, preserved through the years under a pile of rocks. It was torn and dirty, and the wall of a house had collapsed on it snapping the wooden frame. She could just make out another piece of cloth hidden by a large piece of the wall, and she gestured to Honeysuckle to move the stone.

The dragon pushed it over with ease and stepped back, revealing what had been beneath it. Astrid clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling the scream that came out. Her eyes fixed on a tiny skeleton, halfway ground into the dirt. A few locks of brown hair clung to the skinless head. A pink dress, so faded it was almost white, hung limply around the tiny body. Small furry boots still remained on fleshless feet.

Astrid stared, horrified, at the body of the little girl, death suddenly becoming real to her. The child had died in this spot, and her body had most likely laid here for over twenty years. No one knew about her hidden grave. She had probably been just an ordinary three year old, wearing her pink dress and carrying her doll, when her life was cut short, and no one would ever know how or why. She had her own story, a story that would never be known.

Perhaps she had a family and siblings. Perhaps she loved to sing and play. Perhaps she had died unhappy. Perhaps she was a princess, and would someday rule her village. There were so many things that would never be known about her, like why she was buried in rubble, her tiny fingers clutching a doll.

A hand suddenly gripped Astrid’s shoulder, making her jump. She turned, breathing out a sigh of relief when she realized it was only Tove.

“Sickness killed them,” Tove signed, her eyes sad.

Astrid nodded numbly and turned away, able to bear the sight no longer. It wasn’t the bones that bothered her, it…it was the death, and the finality of it. Death could take anyone at anytime. It didn’t seem right. Old people died, warriors died, but not innocent little children. This could be the fate of someone she knew, maybe even her own family.

She limped through the village, her head hanging. She noticed a few crates with what appeared to be the dragon hunter symbol, but the boxes were just too old to tell.

A familiar squawking could be heard from her place in the streets, and she followed it to the edge of the woods. The sound grew louder, and more incessant. Astrid was sure she knew that sound. She wandered through the trees, trying to decipher where the sound came from. The call came again, but this time she knew immediately who it was.

“Stormfly!” she shouted with joy as her dragon came barreling toward her. The Nadder squawked happily and pushed her nose against her rider. “Oh, Stormfly! I’ve missed you so much, girl!” Astrid flung her arms around Stormfly’s neck and held on as tightly as she could.  
But the moment was cut short as Stormfly pulled away and ran back into the woods. She stopped and glanced behind her, as if to make sure Astrid was following. She squawked again, more urgently this time.

Astrid’s smile faded, and she cocked her head, confused. “What is it, girl?” she asked softly.  
Stormfly bobbed her head up and down and took a few more steps. Astrid followed as quickly as she could, begging her dragon to slow down.

They came to a patch of dirt and mud, and lying face down in the mud, was a body. An arrow stuck out of the left shoulder, blood dripping from the wound and mixing into the mud.  
She approached quietly, curious. Her eyes widened as she recognized the thick shaggy brown hair and leather armor. She could only manage to squeak out one word, horrified by what she saw.

“Hiccup!”


	2. Chapter 2

Astrid dropped to her knees in the mud beside him, gritting her teeth against the throbbing. She felt a few stitches break open and she stifled a cry of pain.

“Hiccup!” She shook him violently, panic rising. He wasn’t responding; she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. There was so much blood on his shoulder, and even more seeped from a wound on the back of his head. “Hiccup!” she shouted again, her throat tightening and tears starting to fall. Her heart squeezed painfully, as if trying to beat for him.

She turned his head on its side, and began to wipe the mud from his face, her hands shaking fiercely. The image of the dead girl clawed its way to the front of her mind, daunting her with vividness of it.

“Hiccup! Wake up!” It came out in choking sobs. The haunting picture in her mind slowly dissolved into another; a skeleton, face down in the mud, clothed in leather armor, the left foot replaced by a piece of metal. Hysteria began to set in, and with sobbing screams she begged him to respond.

She rolled him over and into her lap, the arrow snapping in half as it briefly dragged through the mud. “Hiccup!” Her tears dropped onto his face, leaving a trail of clean skin as they slid down his muddy cheeks. “Don’t do this, Hiccup! Please! Wake up!”

Astrid was screaming and sobbing so hard she could no longer think straight. She continued to clean the mud from his face, pleading for him to wake up.

Her hysterical sobbing had caught Dagur’s attention, and he had alerted Tove that something was wrong. The two ran into the mud clearing, stopping short at the sight of Astrid bawling in the mud.

Tove’s eyes widened, realizing that it was a person in the mud beside Astrid. She knelt alongside the pair, pressing and ear against Hiccup’s chest. A grim expression settled on her face. She moved her hand to his neck, feeling around with her fingers for a certain spot. His pulse was faint, but there.

“Please Tove, you have to save him!” Astrid sobbed, though she knew Tove couldn’t understand her. “He’s my best friend! You have to save him! Please! He means the world to me! I know you don’t understand, but please don’t let him die!”

Tove forcefully, yet gently, rubbed Hiccup’s dirty cheek, attempting to stir him. When that failed, she pushed roughly just under his ribs, the way she had done with Astrid. He slowly heaved a dirty phlegm, and Tove pulled the water canteen from her belt. She poured less than a teaspoon into his mouth, and pressed under his chin to make him swallow.

Astrid was so panic-stricken and out of control that Dagur had to pull her away so that Tove had room to work, and even found it necessary to hold her back as she desperately tried to reach her friend. Dagur tried his best to calm her down, but she sobbed all the harder.

Tove jerked the arrow out of his shoulder and quickly covered up the gushing wound with her hand. She gestured urgently to Dagur, motioning for his shirt. He let go of Astrid in order to take it off, and she rushed back to Hiccup, her knee bleeding profusely.

Understanding how important the injured young man was to Astrid, she allowed her to stay, though worried about the growing patch of blood on her knee. She pressed down on the arrow wound with the shirt, frantically trying to stop the bleeding. He’d already lost so much blood, and the wound was a gaping hole. It would no doubt scar.

He moaned weakly as they lifted him from the mud and onto Stormfly’s back, as Astrid insisted on bringing him back to Tove’s island herself. As they flew, she realized how much heat was radiating from his body, though he shivered with chills.

“Please Hiccup,” she whispered to him, her voice still shaking. “Please don’t leave me now.”

. . .

Days passed. Even with Tove’s expert care, Hiccup showed no signs of improvement. Oh, sure, the wound on his shoulder was healing perfectly fine, but his fever refused to break. It would lower for a few hours if he was given some herb tea, but it never fully left, and Hiccup was only getting worse.

Astrid sat awake with him one night, moping his sweaty brow with a cool cloth. Her stomach clenched in sympathy as he whimpered feverishly, tossing around in his fitful sleep. His bangs clung to his forehead with perspiration, and his cheeks were a fiery red.

A harsh cough had started earlier that day, and it still persisted. With each cough he would wince slightly, as if it hurt him even when unconscious. Astrid sighed and pushed the damp hair off his forehead, finding droplets of sweat beneath it.

She rubbed the cloth over his face again, and he swallowed thickly. She realized he must be thirsty, but she could think of no way to give him water. She cupped his cheek in her hand, gazing compassionately at the face of her sick friend. She tried to remember the last time he had been this sick.

Her mind traveled a few years back, when Hiccup had lost his leg. She had pleaded with the chief to let her help care for him, feeling obligated to somehow make up for the horrible things she had said and done to him over the years.

The first few nights had been awful. He had thrashed around feverishly, moaning and crying out in pain. She would never forget how he had lay awake sobbing from pain; how she had sat helplessly in the corner as his father attempted to comfort him. She had to admit that she felt that way now. Her friend was suffering, and she could only do her best to make it easier.

Astrid slowly took one of his hands in her own. She studied his callused fingers, and gently fingered the many scars that had formed from working in the forge. She loved Hiccup’s hands. They were gentle, comforting, rough, yet still soft in places, and his hands were always warm. Each tiny scar on his hands had a story behind it. He had told them to her perhaps a year ago, mainly because they were stuck inside during a snow storm, but Astrid never forgot them.

The big one on his right thumb was from when he accidentally nailed it to a board. The flat one on the tip of his left index finger had been there since he was four, and didn’t believe what Gobber said about red metal being hot. There were several that had come from dragons, the worst caused by Snotlout’s terrible terror.

Her favorite, however, had been caused by a hot iron rod. She had been sitting in the forge with him as he worked, and she thought she was out of the way, leaned up against the bellows. Hiccup had laid the rod in the fire to heat it up, and when he turned back to get it, it fell. Without hesitation, he grabbed it in mid air before it landed on her, burning two fingers on his right hand badly.

He claimed she was worth a meaningless scar, but to Astrid, the scar was far more than that. It reminded her of all the other times he had sacrificed for her; of what he was willing to do for her. She loved his hands because they showed that he loved her—as a best friend only, of course.

She pressed his palm to her cheek, her hand atop his, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She could feel her favorite scar brushing her temple. Even when he was sick, his hands were still warm and comforting.

“Oh, Hiccup.” It came out soft and sad; she knew he was suffering, and she knew it was getting worse. “I know you probably can’t hear me, but maybe you’ll still understand. You are my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine anyone taking your place.” Her voice shook a little, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.

“This isn’t easy, I know. I know you’re in pain and sick, but you can’t give out now. We have to get home, and you can finish giving out your new rules. I promise I’ll tell you if I get hurt. If you give up now Hiccup…I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her voice grew slightly higher and more strained, tears now brimming. “We need you Hiccup. I need you.”

A few hot, salty tears slipped out and slid down over their fingers. “I need you, Hiccup. I- I’m not ready to let you go.” She finally broke down, her tears running between their hands. She kissed his palm, trying to control her crying. “You don’t have a good enough excuse to leave,” she giggled tearfully. “I survived the Scourge of Odin, so you can survive a fever!”

She was finally getting a hold of herself, and she let his brought his hand down to rub it. As she gently massaged his fingers, she noticed an odd but terrifyingly familiar pale, green tint to the tips. She recognized it immediately.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No!”

. . .

Astrid bit her nails as Tove slowly examined her friend, Dagur watching from the door. Deep down, Astrid knew exactly what Hiccup had, but she kept hoping that there was some other reason. There was no way Hiccup could survive a flight to the Buffalord’s island, and they had no idea how to get there.

Astrid hadn’t paid any attention to where the island was located, and even if she had, she would only know how to get there from Dragon’s Edge. Dagur wasn’t much help either, as he didn’t even know what a Buffalord was.

Tove shook her head, throwing a sorrowful glance to Astrid. With a sigh, she signed that the was nothing she could do for him. She signed a few more things that Astrid didn’t understand, but she did pick up the word “blood” and Dagur made a disgusted face.

“What did she say?” Astrid asked Dagur, desperate to know what could be done for her friend.

“She said there are two different versions of the Scourge. One of them is cured by Buffalord Saliva and that herb, and the other one has to be cured by immune blood and a word that started with a ‘p.’ I didn’t catch what it was. She was going way too fast. I have no idea how the moves her hands so quick! She must be part Speed Stinger!”

“Did she elaborate on what ‘immune blood’ meant?”

“No. But she did say if that was the one he needed, he was sick with the more painful, slow version. It’s like the torture version.” Dagur’s eyes lit up at the word torture. “One of them is swift and kills you nice and quick, but the other is slow and consumes you in utter agony, gradually burying you in a painful grave-”

He stopped himself as he noticed Astrid glaring viciously at him. “Sorry.”

Astrid glanced back at Hiccup, beads of sweat sliding down his temples. The flush had long since left his cheeks, replaced by a sickly pallor. His coughed refused to ebb, and during several harsher fits he had brought up blood. Dark circles lined under his eyes, indicating little rest.

Dagur yawned and said he was going to back to bed, and Tove followed him out of the room. Astrid eased herself down on the bed beside him, her knee protesting as she tried to bend it. Tove had told her that she had removed a little less than half her knee cap, but salvaged most of the bone. Even when the injury was completely healed, it would still hurt her.

But the current pain was hardly recognized as she sat beside Hiccup. The cough had subsided a little, allowing him to gain a few moments of peace. He stared the wall with half lidded eyes, never noticing that she was even there. He looked so tired, but between the coughing and fever, he couldn’t sleep.

Sleep had been a refuge for her. When she had the Scourge, she wanted nothing more than to sleep. It was an escape from the misery, a defense against the exhaustion, and simply better than suffering through it.

Another bout of coughing gripped him, growing steadily fiercer as it forced him upright. He was too weak to stay vertical, and Astrid had to hold him for fear he would fall off of the cot. The gasps for air between coughs were so hoarse and strained it scared her, but it scared her far worse to see droplets of blood spattered on the blankets.

The fit finally alleviated and she leaned him back down without a word. His eyes were closed and his breathing evened out, and it appeared he had at last fallen asleep.

Tove stepped in the doorway quietly, carrying a mug in each hand. They were both steaming hot, and gave off a sweet aroma. She passed one to Astrid, who thanked her, realizing the mug contained tea.

“ _How is he?_ ” Tove signed, sitting down on the other side of the bed.

“Not so good,” Astrid replied aloud. It had been established that Tove knew how to read lips, which made communication between the two of them much easier. “He brought up more blood.”

Tove sighed heavily. “ _He seems worse. I wish we had caught the sickness earlier. I would have had more time to treat it.”_

Astrid nodded in agreement, taking a sip of her tea. “When I had it, it progressed much quicker. If they hadn’t found the cure…I just know I wouldn’t be here now. I would have been dead within a few days.”

Tove stared her intently as she spoke, carefully watching her mouth. A strange look passed over her face. “ _You have had the Scourge of Odin before?”_

“Yeah, maybe a month or two ago. I was infected by a sick sailor.”

“ _And the sickness moved quickly?_ ” Her eyes were wide, and she seemed oddly excited.

“Yeah.”

Tove jumped up, smiling ecstatically and hurriedly motioning for Astrid to follow her out the door.

“What? What is it?” Astrid stood, setting her tea down.

Tove grabbed her arm, making sure she had her attention. “ _Your blood,_ ” she signed delightedly. “ _It can save him!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I left you on another cliff hanger. Well, lucky for you, there is a third chapter on its way! 
> 
> Tell me what you think so far! Feel free to leave Kudos as well!


	3. Chapter 3

Astrid’s head spun as Tove dragged her out the door. Her blood could save Hiccup? What in the world could her blood do to save him? And just as importantly, how? Tove pulled her into the main area of their little two room hut. Dagur had built himself a small lean-to off the back of this room, so that she and Tove could have a room to themselves.

She sat her down and handed her a paper from one of her books, briefly motioning for her to read it. Still a little stunned, Astrid read over the page.

“Scourge of Odin: A disease caused by the saliva of a Buffalord, known to kill victims in _under two weeks unless otherwise cured. Disease can be blood-borne or infected in victims by internalization of saliva, either by ingesting or contact with blood. Contagious by contact with blood._

_“Symptoms: Shortness of breath, bloodshot eyes, weakness, coughing, chest pain, aching, congestion of chest, fainting, heaving up blood, dry mouth, and fever. Latter symptoms include pale and/or greenish skin, loss of feeling, inability to breathe, and extreme exhaustion._

_“Cures: There two different variations of the disease. If infected by another person, the victim will not survive more than a few days. A cure can be made from Buffalord saliva and the Perondis herb. Coloration should be a fairly bright green. Mix the two either by hand or from the dragon’s mouth, and give orally. Effects begin immediately._

_“The second type is caused by the saliva itself. Buffalord saliva is toxic to humans, carrying a germ that infects the blood. If the saliva is ingested, a cure can be made from the immune blood of a cured victim, as long as they were not infected the same way. Boil blood down and mix in the Perondis herb, color should be brown. Give orally. Effects take longer to take action. The infected person should stabilize within minutes, but will not fully recover for at least as long as they have been sick.”_

It was beginning to make sense. Astrid’s blood could be used as a substitute for the Buffalord saliva, because she had already been cured. She had an immunity to it, and it could be used as an antidote. She was the only one who could help, because she had been infected by a carrier of the disease, and not the disease itself.

Tove had finished setting up her things, and quickly asked her if she understood. Astrid nodded, swallowing as she wondered how Tove planned to get her blood. The other girl took her hand, cleaned her index finger, and produced a sowing needle. Glancing once at Astrid, and quickly and skillfully pushed the needle into her skin.

Astrid bit her lip to keep from crying out. For such a small needle, it hurt badly. She watched as Tove squeezed blood out into a cup—a good bit, it seemed like. She handed Astrid a cloth for her finger and mixed some water in with the blood, pouring it into the pot above the fire. She added the herbs, and let it sit, tending to her friend’s hand.

The cure sat bubbling above the pot for a long time before it finally turned brown. Tove poured it into a cup, and Astrid was surprised by how little liquid was left. So much had been boiled out. The fluid smelled oddly sweet, a little like mint and a little like honey. She brought it in to Hiccup, Tove cleaning up the mess in the other room.

Hiccup looked worse. The circles under his eyes were darker, his skin was greener, and sweat clung to his pale cheeks. His thick hair was plastered to his forehead, and his coughing had slowed, but only because he was so weak. Each breath was drawn in with effort, and he struggled over each one.

She gently eased herself down beside him, not wanting to startle him. He didn’t respond to her at all. She grasped his hand briefly to wake him up, shocked by how deathly cold it was. She rubbed his numb fingers, taking note of how green they were.

He was dying.

The thought was terrifying, but true. He had weaved in and out of unconsciousness for more than a week, slowly growing sicker. She had been asleep the only time he had been fully alert. Then the fever came. It stole every ounce of his energy, and the wound on his shoulder only made battling sickness harder. Hiccup whimpered pitifully, forcing out another painful cough. It was so hard to watch him. She understood his suffering; that was what made it so difficult.

Astrid then remembered (though she hadn’t truly forgotten) that she had brought in a cure for him. Reaching for the cup which she had set down on the table beside his bed, she scooted up closer to him.

She pushed the sweaty hair off his forehead, and he stirred a little. “Hiccup,” she whispered gently. “Wake up.” She continued to play with his hair, stirring it around between her fingers. “I know you’re tired,” she went on, “but I need you to drink this. Come on. Wake up.”

His eyes slowly opened, and he stared at her blankly, and recognition was out of the question. He had no idea who she was, and if he was sick enough, he wouldn’t understand anything she said, either.

Astrid smiled down at him, gently pressing the cup to his lips. He seemed to understand what she wanted him to do, and feebly raised his head to take a sip. Supporting his head in her palm, she tipped the cup up to allow the contents to run into his mouth.

He clearly didn’t like the taste, and he turned his head away, rigidly swallowing what was already in his mouth. Astrid refused to let him move away, and managed to the rest of it down him. She put the cup to the side, wishing the antidote would work faster.

She sat down on the bed next to him, listening to the sounds from outside. Crickets chirped, and the wind rustled through the treetops. She thought for a moment that she heard moaning, but it was gone so quickly that she couldn’t be sure. Glancing back at Hiccup, she tried to ignore the homesickness that welled up in her chest.

Astrid longed for the smell of her hut; fresh wood and pine air. She longed for her bed, clean clothes, and a hot bath. She wanted sit curled up next to Stormfly in her favorite fur in front of her fireplace, bury her face in the soft bear pelt and watch the flames dance.

Tove stuck her head in the doorway, briefly asking with a few gestures whether Hiccup had been given the antidote. Astrid nodded, and Tove left and went to bed. Exhaustion tugged at Astrid as well, reminding her that she had not slept in at least a day. She gingerly brought her right leg up on the bed, doing her best not to jostle her knee. Between the original wound and pulling out the stitches on multiple occasions, it hurt.

Hiccup weakly tried to claw his way out from under the furs, trying to cool himself from the non-existent feverish heat. He groaned and slowly licked his lips, trying to moisten them.

Astrid tenderly mopped his face with the wet rag, tucking the fur around his shoulders again. She could see a bruise forming on his cheekbone just under his eye, caused by Thor knows what. He rolled onto his side, facing away from her, the fur slipping off his shoulders. She pulled it back up, then lay down on the mattress with her back to him. She was so tired…what harm could come from just a short rest?

. . .

It was almost a literal battle.

Sleep and unconsciousness fought to coil their deadly tentacles around him, dragging him deeper and deeper into the darkness. His mind searched for something to grab hold of, to keep him from drowning in a whirl pool of blackness. Some sound, some memory, a spot of light, anything.

His body was beginning to obey him, and his fingers feebly gripped what felt like a fur. He could just make out a faint murmuring somewhere in the distance; outside the blackness. His mind reached out for it, holding on for dear life. He forced himself to focus on it, to decipher what it meant.

Dizziness swirled around him, causing his ears to roar and his head to ache. The unwelcome sleep was closing in on him, and he was too exhausted to fight back. A groan escaped him as air grew harder and harder to breathe.

Something touched him. He could feel gentle fingers cupping his cheek, the cool feeling spreading across his hot skin. His toes were staring to tingle. The prickling worked its way up his legs, leaving a steady ache behind it.

The incoherent murmuring was slowly becoming clearer. He could now detect at distinct voice, soft and feminine. The mumbles were beginning to group together in words and sentences; someone was talking to him. The sound stopped for a brief moment. The unconsciousness clawed at him more fiercely.

A unfamiliar aroma wafted past his nose, waking him further. Breeze skimmed across his bare shoulders, sending a shiver through him. A solitary cough pushed its way up his throat.

He tried to open his eyes, focusing on the sounds, smells and growing light. He wanted to sleep, but it was an unnatural exhaustion. How could opening his eyes be so much work?

His eye lids slowly parted, revealing a fuzzy image, splotchy and unrecognizable. His eyes slowly adjusted to the flickering light. His tired mind tried to identify the person in front of him.

His vision cleared, and he could see the person clearly, though their back was turned to him. He coughed again, and they turned. His eyes widened as he realized who it was next to him. Was it really her this time?

“Hiccup!” Astrid’s face lit up with joy. “You’re awake!”

It was her. This time it was really her. She was alive! Overcome with emotion, Hiccup lunged at her, choking out a momentary sob. He threw his arms around her neck, suddenly realizing how weak he still was.

Astrid let out a small, melodic laugh as she wrapped her arms around him, keeping him from falling back on the bed. She leaned her head against his, sighing as she squeezed him tighter. This was really Astrid; only she knew how to hold him like this. He buried his face in her soft hair, taking in the smell and silky feeling. Astrid was alive. It was the most wonderful verity in the whole world.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered, sniffling. She gripped him tighter, as if it would keep him from disappearing into thin air.

“Me?” he managed to say, his full weight resting on her out of exhaustion. “I thought you were dead.” He swallowed hard, choking back joyful tears.

“You were just about right.” She brushed her fingers through his hair, hearing the tears in his voice and trying to prove to him once again that she was truly there.

“I got a message. It said you needed help.”

“I didn’t send a message.”

“I know. It was a trap. I don’t know who is behind it, but they had-”

“Shh.” Astrid cut him off and slowly lowered him down on the pillow. She pulled the fur up around his bare shoulders and smiled. “Just rest for now. We’ll talk later.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, a few spilling out. “No. I can’t…I might lose you again.”

Astrid smiled again, brushing the droplets off his cheeks. “I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”

“You don’t know that. I won’t lose you again, Astrid.” He grabbed her arm and held on with all the strength he had.

“Hiccup. I’m not leaving.”

“Please, Astrid. I just found you. Please.”

As Astrid gazed into his pleading eyes, she started to cave in. He was being stubborn, but the reason behind it was his protectiveness of her. Even when he was too weak to stand, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight. He didn’t want anything to happen to her again.

She didn’t know what form of trap he had been lured into, but his wanting her to stay probably had something to do with his own fear. He wanted her to be safe, and wanted to be safe himself, which he needed her to do. She couldn’t take that security away from him.

Astrid smiled and lay down next to him, wrapping his good arm around her shoulders. “I’ll stay.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, once again I have left you on a cliff hanger. But once again, THERE IS ANOTHER BOOK COMING SOON!
> 
> Keep your eyes pealed for "Lost and Sound!" It be out within a few weeks!
> 
> Wanna make my day? Leave a comment and kudos!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~Spinofflady


End file.
